


Expecto Patronum

by Kellyjelly



Series: Harry Potter AU [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Dementors, Fluff, Following the movie plot, Harry Potter AU, Innocent touches, John and Sherlock are 13, John is in Gryffindor, John is the boy who lived, M/M, Magical World, Potterlock, Sherlock and John love each other but they don’t know it yet, Sherlock is in Hufflepuff, Slow Burn, Sort of? - Freeform, Starting With Prisoner of Azkaban, Time Travel, Werewolves, Witches, Wizards, cute moments, slowly falling in love, teen!lock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-02 00:20:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17254103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kellyjelly/pseuds/Kellyjelly
Summary: John Hamish Watson is the boy who lived. He survived that fateful night against Voldemort.Already, John has survived two murder attempts from Voldemort. And now, a mass murderer by the name of Sirius Black broke out of Azkaban to find John.With the help of his best friend, Sherlock Holmes, they will figure out why Sirius Black is after John.Harry Potter (Prisoner of Azkaban AU)





	Expecto Patronum

**Author's Note:**

> New year, new stories! Yay! Okay, so I’ve been dying to do a Sherlock fic in a Harry Potter AU and I‘m finally doing it! Just a quick recap, this first chapter is heavily correlated to the first twenty minutes of Prisoner of Azkaban with a few changes of my own. The next chapters will be different, I’ll add my own stuff in them. For now, I needed to set up the beginning. 
> 
> So, I’m basically following the plot line of the Prisoner of Azkaban, I’m not a slow burn person but I shall do my best with this fic. Then, I shall follow the rest of the movies afterwards. I hope you guys like it!
> 
> Also, Happy New Year to everyone!

John Hamish Watson. 

Famous by a single name: The boy who lived. 

The thirteen-year-old boy who was once a child, a baby if you will, witnessed the death of his parents. Only one wizard was responsible for his parents’ death, his name. 

Lord Voldemort. 

John was in his room, an upgrade from the cupboard that his aunt and uncle gave him when he first came to live in the Dursley home. The blond was sitting on his bed, looking at a photo album that held pictures of his parents and friends. His room was dark except for the lamp that illuminated the pages of the photo album. 

John flipped a page and the picture of his parents holding him when he was baby was an image, he couldn’t bear to see it but how he longed to slip inside the moving picture and feel the arms of his mother and father. Life was cruel, taking away the two people who made him and yet, he never had the opportunity to meet them. 

The blond pressed his lips into a thin line and flipped the page. 

The next moving picture that appeared was one that John absolutely adored. It was a picture of him and his best friend, Sherlock Holmes, they were both standing in front of Hogwarts, the blond swung his arm around the tall boy, pressing him closer to his side as Sherlock rolled his eyes. Sherlock’s cheek was pressed against John’s and a crinkle of a smile appeared on Sherlock’s lips. 

John smiled at the memory of the photo. 

He could clearly remember the first time he met Sherlock. 

It was when Hagrid, a sweet giant notified him when he was barely eleven years old that he was a wizard and a letter from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was notifying the blond that he was to attend this school. That same day, he learned about the wealth his parents left him in Gringotts, he acquired his books for his first term, obtained a wand that had a twin brother who curiously enough, belonged to Voldemort and an owl Hagrid gave him for his birthday named Hedwig. 

After that, he boarded the Hogwarts train and sat in an empty compartment watching as the view of London began to disappear. He was calm and collected when a boy knocked on the door of his compartment. 

“Do you mind if I sit here? Everywhere else is packed and full of ignorant idiots.” 

John shook his head. “No. Go ahead.” 

The tall boy with wild black curls entered the compartment and sat across from the blond. “You’re John Watson.” 

John was flabbergasted. “How did you know that?” 

“I think I could recognize the boy who is famous for surviving a curse that rebounded on yourself and Voldemort. Your obvious lack of knowledge about the magical world is evident and the way you hold yourself shows that you’re insecure about this new world but you’re intrigued by the new experience.” The boy with dark curls smirked before he spoke again. “Then again you have the scar on your forehead which makes it obvious that you’re John Watson.” 

John’s mouth was agape. “That was… amazing.” 

The boy across from John was startled by the positive reaction to his deductions. “Really?” 

The blond laughed. “Of course, it was. How on earth did you know that?” 

“I used the science of deduction. I observe people and pick up all the information that is correlated to that person.” 

“Brilliant!” 

The tall boy smiled widely. “Thank you.” 

John forgot his manners. “Oh, I’m sorry, you know who I am but I don’t know who you are.” 

“Right. Formal introductions are needed. I’m Sherlock Holmes.” Sherlock extended his hand. 

John took the boy’s hand and shook it. “Nice to meet you.” 

“Nice to meet you as well.” Sherlock eyed the boy again. “I think we are going to be very great friends.” 

Since then, the two boys have been chatting away before they reached Hogwarts, John kept praising Sherlock’s deductions and Sherlock enjoyed the company of a new friend that he didn’t detest or find annoying. 

Although, John encountered an unfriendly foe by the name of Jim Moriarty, the boy approached the blond, saying that the famous John Watson deserved to have better friends than the freak everyone knew as Sherlock Holmes. 

Proudly, John rejected the friendly request of being Jim’s friend and from there on, he made a lifelong enemy. 

Then they reached the point where the sorting hat would dictate the future of a student concerning the house, they will be placed in. Many students were housed in Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Gryffindor. Several names were being crossed off the list as Professor Mcgonagall pronounced every name from the parchment of paper in her hand. 

She called out Sherlock’s name and the tall boy sat on a chair, patiently waiting for the sorting hat to be placed on his head. From the Slytherin table, his older brother, Mycroft was scrutinizing his brother. 

Every person belonging to the Holmes family were Slytherins but his mother and father never expected Sherlock to follow the tradition. Yes, they were pure bloods but that didn’t mean that Sherlock’s parents were awful people who hated others who weren’t pure bloods. They were sweet people who showered their sons with too much love. 

Because of this accepting perspective, Sherlock grew up with a positive outlook on the magical world. 

The sorting hat could feel that this boy would thrive in the Slytherin house but the hat could feel in Sherlock’s heart that he didn’t want to be a Slytherin. The hat made his decision and announced that Sherlock Holmes would be placed in Hufflepuff. 

Sherlock was beyond pleased to know that he was placed in a house that wasn’t Slytherin. His brother, Mycroft was deeply displeased at the decision the hat made and became even angrier when Sherlock smiled widely at him and waved him goodbye. 

It took a long time before John was called to sit on the chair and let the sorting hat predict his destiny. When John sat on the chair, his eyes connected with Sherlock and the tall boy sent him an assuring smile. Sherlock was secretly begging the sorting hat to let John be in the same house as him. 

The sorting hat took his time with John, as soon as he was placed on the blond’s head, he knew who this boy was. Out loud, the hat talked about how John had courage, talent, and skills that would work perfectly in every house. But in which house would he thrive best in? John whispered to not be placed in Slytherin for Jim Moriarty was housed in it. The hat questioned if John was sure that he didn’t want to be placed in Slytherin, for he would be great in Slytherin but the hat took in the blond’s request and decided to place him in Gryffindor. 

Many who were seated at the Gryffindor table cheered at the new addition to their house. John smiled happily and went towards the table that would be his new house. Although, he was a bit sad that he wasn’t placed with Sherlock. 

Sherlock would never admit it but his heart sank when the sorting hat placed John in Gryffindor house, but the boy had to be rational, the chances of John being in the same house as him were a 50/50 chance. But Sherlock waved that thought away, sentiment. The tall boy didn’t care, he didn’t need to have John around, it was a short-lived friendship, no big deal. 

Sherlock gazed over at the Gryffindor table and his ocean blue eyes connected with John’s cobalt blue ones and the blond sent Sherlock a heartwarming smile. 

Okay, maybe it wasn’t a short-lived friendship but who cares, John would find new friends and Sherlock’s presence would diminish. 

But oh, how Sherlock was wrong. 

Since that day, yes, John made new friends in the Gryffindor house, he met Greg Lestrade and Molly Hooper. But the blond became really close to Greg and due to their closeness, he introduced Lestrade to Sherlock and the tall boy found Greg to be tolerable. Later in time, Sherlock became friends with Molly Hooper. But usually, it was Sherlock and John who would roam around the school together. 

The two shared the same classes everyday and they became inseparable. 

So, inseparable that in their first year together, they both took up the challenge to figure out the importance of the sorcerer’s stone and why Voldemort was so desperate to obtain it. Sherlock loved solving puzzles, solving cases and with the trouble that John would get them both into, Sherlock happily suffered the consequences of their actions together, and helped the blond figure out what the heck they were going up against. 

In the end, the sorcerer’s stone was destroyed and John realized how dangerous Voldemort was and the hate the powerful wizard had against him. He learned that Voldemort would gain power at some point and go after John. 

But this was not the time for that. 

Then their second year commenced. 

John still couldn’t forget the fright he lived through when he learned that students were being petrified and his best friend, Sherlock was one of them. He remembers how Greg accompanied him to the Hospital Wing and their eyes were witnesses to Sherlock’s petrified body, he was found near the library with a mirror in hand. It was up to John and Greg to figure out who was committing these attacks and thanks to a little trip in the Dark Forest. They talked to a giant spider by the name of Aragog and thanks to their little chat, they learned the nature of a beast that even spiders were afraid of. 

The constant trips to the hospital was the beginning of John finding a scrunched piece of paper in Sherlock’s hand and it contained the answer to their problem. Him and Greg studied the piece of paper and realized that it was a basilisk who was committing the attacks through the extension of pipes running through Hogwarts school. They both figured out the existence of the beast but they were pushed to find the chamber of secrets, the home of the basilisk and the current whereabouts of Molly Hooper, where her body was taken. 

They asked Gilderoy Lockhart to help them find the chamber of secrets but his presence was useless. 

In the end, John met Tom Marvolo Riddle’s 16-year-old self in the chamber of secrets, preserved by a diary. Tom Riddle delightedly sent the basilisk after John but the blond managed to kill the snake with the sword of Gryffindor. With a basilisk fang penetrating his arm, he destroyed the diary that Molly used to communicate with Tom Riddle, and the memory preserved in the chamber of secrets was destroyed. 

John, Greg, Molly, and Lockhart were able to escape the chamber of secrets and present the destroyed diary to Professor Dumbledore. After that, it was only a matter time before those who were petrified would wake up from their delicate state. 

John can remember that day where he sat at the Gryffindor table and he casually glanced to the side and Sherlock was at the end of the dining hall, all better and cured. The blond smiled so brightly as he ran towards his friend who was shocked by the hug John gave him. After a few seconds, Sherlock returned the hug, holding onto John tightly. They had a small moment where they both looked into each other’s gaze and held it there for a while, both not really knowing what they were experiencing. 

All these memories were flooding into John’s head and he chuckled at the insane shit he lived through in Hogwarts with Sherlock. John closed the photo album and huffed in exhaustion, he wanted to go back to Hogwarts, that was the only home he knew and the only place where he had friends and where he had Sherlock. 

His uncle came inside his room and switched the light on. “Dammit John! Go to sleep!” 

John rolled his eyes and put the album away, changed into his pajamas and petted Hedwig before falling asleep. 

  
  
*-* 

  
  
The next morning, it was raining, and John was opening the door to let in uncle Vernon along with his rude and annoying sister, Marjorie Eileen or better known as Marge. Marge crossed the threshold and impolitely shoved her wet umbrella into John’s hands. The blond simply glared at the foul woman along with her dog that was equally as horrible as her. Marge entered the living room, greeting Petunia with a hug and a jump from the dog. 

Vernon was taking off his jacket when John approached him. “Uncle Vernon.” The blond began to unfold a piece of paper. “I need you to sign this form.” 

“What is it?” 

“Nothing. School stuff.” 

Vernon placed his jacket on a hanger and began to walk away. “Later perhaps. If you behave.” 

John scoffed in irritation. “I will if she does.” The blond pointed at Vernon’s sister. 

Marge heard John’s remark and looked at him in disgust. “Oh, you’re still here, are you?” 

“Yes.” John answered. 

Marge approached him. “Don’t say yes in that ungrateful way. Damn good of my brother to keep you. You’d have been sent to an orphanage if you were dumped on my doorstep.” 

Marge ignored John and went to praise Dudley, John’s cousin who was currently on the sofa watching the television. Vernon demanded John to take his sister’s luggage upstairs and not come back down until he was needed. 

John shrugged his shoulders. “Fine by me.” 

  
  
*-* 

  
  
It was dinner time and everyone was seated on the dining table except for John. He was tasked to serve everyone food and refill their glasses with wine or juice. Then John had to remove everyone’s dirty plates from the table and take them to the sink. John was becoming irritated with each snap of Marge’s fingers, commanding him like he was her servant to clean up after her. But the blond had no option but to oblige. 

John was at the sink throwing away the food that was left on everyone’s plates when the cooing of Marge captured his attention and he saw the heavy woman giving brandy to her dog. He found her so fucking weird and just not lovable. 

Marge stopped giving her dog a sip of brandy and saw John staring at her. “What are you smirking at?” 

John shrugged his shoulders and went back to removing the food from the plates in his hands. 

“Where did you send the boy, Vernon?” Marge asked. 

“St. Brutus’. It’s a fine institution for hopeless cases.” Vernon explained. 

Marge faced John. “Do they use a cane at St. Brutus’, boy?” 

The blond stopped his actions and lifted his gaze towards Marge. He was a bit lost as to how he would answer that question but Vernon gave him a pointed look that translated into John just agree. 

The blond smiled sheepishly and began to agree. “Oh, yeah.” His voice filled with enthusiasm along with a bit of sarcasm. “Yeah. I’ve been beaten loads of times. Mm.” 

“Excellent. I won’t have this namby-pamby wishy-washy nonsense about not beating people who deserve it.” Marge nastily remarked. 

John hid his smile as he turned around, his back facing everyone at the table. 

Marge continued on with her ramblings. “You mustn’t blame yourself about how this one turned out. Its all to do with blood. Bad blood will out. What is it the boy’s father did, Petunia?” 

The blond’s smiled disappeared as he heard Marge talking about bad blood and what not. He had a feeling where this conversation would go and he was more than ready to contradict Marge. That fucking rude bitch, John hated her so much and he detested how she showed up and insulted his existence. 

Petunia answered Marge’s question. “Nothing. He didn’t work. He was unemployed.” 

Once Petunia said those words, John knew that at any given moment Marge would insult the memory of his father and oh, he was ready to defend the name of his father. 

“And a drunk too, no doubt?” Marge answered. 

“That’s a lie.” John sharply said. 

“What did you say?” Marge sassily asked. 

The blond turned around and glared at Marge. “My dad wasn’t a drunk.” 

Suddenly the glass of brandy that sat in Marge’s hand shattered into pieces, glass falling everyone and brandy staining the table cloth and Marge’s clothes. Vernon and Petunia were shocked by the sudden outburst, even John was shocked as hell. 

The chances of the blond causing that was pretty damn high and John cursed at himself to keep it together but tried to look as innocent as possible. He didn’t really mean to do that, or did he? 

“Don’t worry. Don’t fuss, Petunia. I have a very firm grip.” Marge began to dry herself. 

Vernon gave John a pointed look but the blond shook his head and shrugged his shoulders, acting as if he didn’t know what happened or better, trying to convince his uncle that it wasn’t him. 

“I think it’s time you went to bed.” Vernon told the blond. 

“Quiet, Vernon. You.” Marge pointed at John. “Clean it up.” 

The blond angrily grabbed a cloth and went towards Marge, picking up the pieces of glass scattered everywhere. 

But of course, the bitch had to keep talking. “Actually, it’s nothing to do with the father. It’s all to do with the mother. You see it all the time with dogs.” 

John remained quiet as he grabbed every piece of glass and walked away. 

“If something’s wrong with the bitch, then something’s wrong with the pup.” 

The blond felt the last strings of patience snipping in two as Marge said that last remark. John threw the cloth filled with glass on the floor and faced Marge as he shouted, “Shut up! Shut up!” 

Marge smiled at the boy’s reaction and lifted her finger, ready to insult the boy even further. The blond was so angry that the lights in the kitchen began to flicker and a powerful wind rushed inside the house. John forced himself to keep his fists against the side of his thighs as he breathed heavily. 

“Right.” Marge lifted her finger. “Let me tell you…” The woman didn’t get a chance to finish her words for she noticed her finger became inflated like a balloon. 

Her face began to stretch, her cheeks spreading wider and her bum was inflating as well. Her legs were becoming engorged, the tights on her legs were ripping, the jacket she had on was ripping by the seams. Everyone except Dudley were staring at Marge with a confused as hell face. The button at top of Marge’s blouse popped off and it flew to the cuckoo clock that was perched on the wall, causing the tiny bird inside the clock to come out and make cuckoo sounds. 

“Vernon!” Marge shouted as she continued to grow bigger and bigger. “Vernon! Vernon, do something!” 

Vernon got up from his seat to help his sister but Marge’s dog went to bite the man’s leg, preventing him from helping the inflated woman. Marge became so inflated that her seat began to float. She held onto the table, trying to not fly away when the necklace around her throat split in two. 

The sudden outburst of her necklace finally caught the attention of Dudley, who was completely engrossed by the television, and the boy was terrified to see his Aunt being as huge as a floating elephant. The chair Marge was sitting on had broken, due to her never ending growth which caused Marge to struggle a bit more with keeping herself steady with the table. The buttons on her blouse were popping off as well and one went straight to Dudley’s face, knocking the boy off his chair. 

No one was sitting was the table anymore and Marge began to go up towards the ceiling, taking the table cloth with her when another button popped off and hit Dudley in the face again. Marge released the table and bounced off the ceiling, screaming her lungs out. Her body flipped over and she began to head outside, while she tried her best to not float away. 

John was startled by the transformation that Marge went through and he watched with dumbstruck written all over his features as Marge managed to float outside. 

“Stop!” Vernon yelled, trying to reach his sister as her stupid dog kept chewing on his leg. “I’ve got you, Marge. I’ve got you.” Vernon held onto Marge’s hands, preventing her from floating towards the sky but Vernon began to feel his feet lifting off from the ground, he couldn’t possibly hold her forever. 

“Don’t you dare!” Marge shouted. 

“Sorry.” Vernon released his sister and fell onto the ground, face first. “Marge!” 

But Marge was no longer at arm’s reach, she continued screaming as she floated towards the sky. Petunia and Vernon watched as she drifted off, becoming smaller and smaller to the human eye. 

The kitchen dining table was a fucking disaster, plates scattered everywhere, food thrown on the floor, napkins flying everywhere, and glass cups shattered on the floor. 

What a fucking mess. 

John ran for the stairs, skipping two at a time, as he reached his room. He threw open his door and slammed it shut, scaring Hedwig. The blond didn’t know what to do with himself or with the anger boiling inside him, so he furiously kicked his desk. Then sitting on his bed as he balled his fists, trying to keep his cool in check. The moving picture of his parents dancing on his nightstand was the only thing that calmed his temper. 

Fuck this. 

John packed all his belongings in his trunk, grabbed his wand and left his room, his trunk being dragged behind him as the heavy luggage made loud thumping noises down the stairs. The blond was stopped at the bottom of the stairs by an angry uncle. 

“You bring her back! You bring her back now! You put her right!” 

John scoffed. “No. She deserved what she got.” 

Vernon yelled loudly as he pushed the boy back against the wall when the blond took out his wand and pointed it at his uncle. Vernon immediately left John alone when the blond pointed his wand at him. 

“Keep away from me.” John said as he went down the last step and towards the door. 

“You’re not allowed to do magic outside of school.” 

“Yeah?” The blond cocked his head to the side. “Try me.” 

“They won’t let you back now. You’ve nowhere to go.” Vernon angrily spat out. 

“I don’t care. Anywhere is better than here.” With that, John left the Dursley’s, with rage rolling off his body. 

It was night already, and the blond walked out in the middle of the road, walking towards… well he wasn’t sure where the hell he was going but he needed to be far away, really fucking far away. John kept walking, his breaths loud and jagged as his body began to feel chilly, due to the cold wind hitting his body. The blond reached a park and from there, he hit a dead end, not truly a dead end but a road that split into two paths and John didn’t know which way to go. 

The blond pulled his trunk behind him and sat on the sidewalk, under a street lamp. He was rubbing his arms, trying to stay warm when the light above him began to flicker for a bit until the light died out, leaving John in the dark. Then the blond shivered at the frigid wind surrounding him, making him even colder. He turned around and saw that the unmoving swings began to swing back and forth. 

John eyed the swings in suspicion, then he noticed the seesaw tipping its weight on the other end, causing the side that was up in the air, fall towards the ground with a loud thump. The blond didn’t understand why the heck this was happening when he heard twigs being crunched. He faced ahead and across from where he was sitting, there was a bench hidden by bushes and trees, when a big black dog or wolf? No, definitely a dog emerged from the bushes and snarled angrily as it began to bark at John. 

The blond took out his wand but a miscalculated step backwards caused John to fall on the sidewalk. As the blond fell on his bum, a blue bus magically appeared in front of him, parking right by his feet. John looked at the blue bus when a tall scrawny man took out a piece of paper and began to read from it. 

“Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. My name is Stan Shunpike, and I will be your conductor for this evening.” The man rolled up the piece of paper and placed in his pocket when he noticed the blond on the floor. “What you doing down there?” 

John looked down at himself. “I fell over.” 

“What you fell over for?” 

The blond pushed himself up with his elbows. “I didn’t do it on purpose.” 

“Well, come on, then. Let’s not wait for the grass to grow.” 

John stood up on his two feet and went to eye the area where the dog appeared and surprisingly enough, there was no one or no animal emerging from the bushes. 

Stan appeared at the blond’s side, looking at the bench as well. “What you looking at?” 

“Nothing.” 

“Well, come on then. In.” 

John went to grab his trunk when Stan pushed him back. “No, no, no, I’ll get this. You get in.” 

The blond stepped inside the bus and was completely oblivious to the man behind him struggling to lift his trunk onto the bus. John hid his wand inside his sweater and curiously watched other wizards sleeping on twin sized beds. The blond kept walking inside and noticed a chandelier hanging above his head, illuminating other beds that were on the second level. His entranced state was interrupted by Stan’s ushering voice. 

“Come on. Move on, move on.” 

John went to the front of bus and was handed a piece of paper by Stan. 

Stan knocked on the window. “Take her away, Ern.” 

A Dre Head or a shrunken head was hanging on the side quietly, until Stan gave the order to move the bus. “Yeah, take it away, Ernie. It’s going to be a bumpy ride. HAHAHAHAHA.” 

The old man who drove the Knight Bus was sleeping comfortably when the shrunken head awoke him, he took a bite from his sandwich and drove the bus. 

The blond fell back onto a bed as the bus began to drive so quickly, that all the beds began to move back and forth. John looked up at the chandelier moving side to side, fuck, the blond sat up, not wanting to die due to a chandelier falling on his head. 

Stan studied the blond. “What did you say your name was again?” 

“I didn’t.” John held onto the pole surrounding the bed, trying to control the sudden jerks that caused to his body to go one way then another. 

“Whereabouts are you headed?” 

The blond thought about the question. “The Leaky Cauldron. That’s in London.” 

Stan repeated the directions to the driver and proceeded to read the Daily Prophet. 

“But the Muggles.” John asked. “Can’t they see us?” 

“Muggles? They don’t see nothing, do they?” 

The bus kept taking sharp turns and dodging as many cars as possible, throwing the blond from one side of the bed to the other. The bus turned a sharp left and up ahead was an old woman crossing the street. John’s eyes widened in shock as he realized that the bus wouldn’t stop in time before hitting the old woman. The driver pressed on the break and stopped harshly, jerking the blond forward, smacking his face against the glass window in front of him. 

John rubbed his face as he watched the old lady taking her sweet ass time crossing the street before the bus zoomed forward, throwing off the blond’s balance as he landed on the bed again. John held onto the mattress when his eyes landed on a moving picture on the front page of the Daily Prophet. It consisted of a man screaming his lungs out as his wild curls swayed against his face, while holding up a prisoner sign. 

“Who is that?” The blond questioned. “That man.” 

Stan looked at John with a confused face as he folded the newspaper and showed the full picture to the blond. “Who is that? Who is — that is Sirius Black, that is. Don’t tell me you’ve never been hearing of Sirius Black.” 

John shook his head, he had absolutely no idea who that man was. 

Stan came closer to the blond. “He’s a murderer. Got himself locked up in Azkaban for it.” 

“How did he escape?” 

“Well, that’s the question, isn’t it?” Stan poked John’s chest. “He’s the first one that done it. He was a big supporter of… you know who. I reckon you’ve heard of him.” 

The blond agreed, of course he knew who Voldemort was, already the wizard has tried to kill him two times. “Yeah. Him I’ve heard of.” 

The bus reached a bridge, still running on full speed when the driver saw two double decker buses up ahead. John’s eyes widened as this time he believed that this bus would crash against the two red buses ahead when the driver pressed on the breaks and pulled a leaver, changing the fast speed of the bus to an extremely slow speed. 

Everything was in slow motion. 

The driver pulled down a leaver and the bus morphed in between the two buses, squishing them together as they slowly passed through the two buses. John’s body was squashed into a thin line until they reached the end of the buses and they returned to their normal states. 

The bus pulled off in full speed again and making another left, stopping in front of the Leaky Cauldron. The bus halted unexpectedly and John flew forward again, smooshing his face against the glass window as the bus parked behind a car. 

“The Leaky Cauldron.” Stan stated. 

The blond stepped back and rubbed his face again when a man with a hunchback entered the bus. “Mr. Watson, at last.” The man grabbed John’s trunk and led the boy out. 

The blond looked around at his destination and watched as the Knight Bus turned a left and disappeared. John entered the Leaky Cauldron, following the man who was taking his trunk. Inside, the blond saw that the Leaky Cauldron was a pub that housed many witches and wizards. The man who took John’s trunk led the blond towards a staircase. John went up the steps until he was brought to a room where the man opened the door for him. 

Immediately, a smile appeared on the blond’s face when he saw Hedwig perched on a wooden chair. 

Then John’s attention was captured by a man who was clearing his throat. “As Minister for Magic, it is my duty to inform you, Mr. Watson that earlier this evening your uncle’s sister was located a little south of Sheffield circling a chimney stack.” 

The man who led John inside the room pushed the blond forward, forcing John to sit down while offering the boy food, which the blond politely declined. 

The minister continued talking. “The Accidental Magic Reversal Department was dispatched immediately. She has been properly punctured and her memory modified. She will have no recollection of the incident whatsoever. So that’s that…” The minister faced John with a smile and approached the boy. “And no harm done. “ 

“Minister?” The blond questioned. 

“Yes?” 

“I don’t understand.” 

“Understand?” 

John tried to clarify his question. “I broke the law. Underage wizards aren’t allowed to use magic at home.” 

The minister clapped his hands together. “Oh, come now John. The Ministry doesn’t send people to Azkaban for blowing up their aunts.” Then the older man became serious. “On the other hand, running away like that, given the state of things… was very, very irresponsible.” 

“The state of things, sir?” 

“We have a killer on the loose.” 

“Sirius Black, you mean?” The blond narrowed his eyes, he didn’t understand. “But what’s he got to do with me?” 

The minister laughed awkwardly as he tried to steer away from the conversation. “Nothing, of course. You’re safe. And that’s what matters. And tomorrow you’ll be on your way back to Hogwarts. These are you new schoolbooks, I took the liberty of having them brought here. Now Tom will show you to your room.” 

Tom pushed back John’s chair and grabbed the boy by the front of his shirt and pulled him to his feet. 

The blond faced his owl. “Hedwig.” The bird flew to John’s extended arm. 

“Oh, and by the way, John. Whilst you’re here, it would be best if you didn’t… wander.” The minister smiled and returned to his work. 

John was shown to his room and he made himself comfortable in it, observing the confines of his room and having a nasty encounter with one of the books required for this term. Apparently, if you opened the book, it was monster with teeth snapping its jaw to bite you. Luckily, the blond managed to close the book before he grabbed his jacket and decided to go downstairs. 

When John opened the door to go outside, he was met by a rat running away from a dark brown owl that only belonged to one person. The blond felt a smile crinkling at the side of his mouth as he went downstairs. 

And luckily enough, he recognized the angry voice downstairs. “I’m warning you, Sherlock. Keep that bloody beast away from Scabbers or I’ll turn your owl into a tea cozy.” 

John smiled excitedly as he made his way downstairs. 

Sherlock’s back was towards the blond. “With your idiot brain, instead of changing my owl into a tea cozy, you’d change yourself into a tea cozy. Obviously, my bird is an owl. What do you expect, Lestrade? Owls eat rats, it’s the cycle of nature. Its inside the nature of an owl to attack a rodent.” 

“A rodent! Dammit Sherlock! If your owl comes close to my rat again, I’ll poke your eye out with my wand!” 

“That’s highly improbable, since you will never be able to poke my eye out and before you even try, I’d probably have my owl attack your rat!” 

John couldn’t help giggling at his two friends bickering. He reached the end of the steps and watched quietly until one of them noticed him. 

Greg was about to respond when his eyes landed on the blond. “John.” 

Sherlock rolled his eyes. “Lovely Lestrade, trying to worm away from our argument by drawing my attention to the nonexistent John on the stairs.” He turned around and Sherlock was surprised to see his best friend actually behind him. Okay, so Lestrade was not a complete idiot. “John.” 

The three sat down on a table, Greg began to explain his summer by starting off with the trip to Egypt with his family. 

“Egypt. What’s it like?” John questioned. 

“Brilliant. Loads of old stuff like mummies, tombs, even Scabbers enjoyed himself.” Greg showed John a newspaper where the portrait of his family was taken in front of the pyramids of Giza. 

The blond looked at the photo and smiled when Sherlock, who was sitting across from John, joined the conversation. “You know, rats were not worshipped by Egyptians, in fact they were seen as pests and dirty creatures that roamed the earth. Unlike the owls.” As if one cue, Sherlock’s owl came at the table and he petted the brown bird. “They were worshipped by Egyptians, known as animals who brought wisdom and knowledge.” 

Greg rolled his eyes. “Yeah, along with the dung beetle.” 

Greg’s brothers, Fred and George, who were twins approached the table. “Not flashing that clipping again?” 

Lestrade huffed in annoyance. “My friends are allowed to see it.” 

Fred took the newspaper from the table and went to sit by Sherlock, which both bothers ruffled his curls and Sherlock shot them both angry glares. 

Then Sherlock rolled his eyes when he saw his mother and father approaching the table. 

His mother blew Sherlock a kiss and then she smiled when she saw John. “John.” 

“Mrs Holmes.” 

Sherlock’s parents were the only Slytherins that John actually liked, they were both funny, sweet, kind and caring, they were almost like a second family to the blond. 

The older lady hugged John and kissed his cheek. “Good to see you, dear.” 

“Great to see you too.” The blond chirped happily. 

Sherlock felt the sides of mouth turning into a small smile as he watched John and his mother get along just fine. 

“Do you have everything you need?” Mrs Holmes questioned the blond. 

“Yup.” 

“Yes? All of your books?” 

John nodded. “Yeah, its all upstairs.” 

“And all of your clothes?” 

“Yeah. Everything.” 

Mrs Holmes smiled and kissed the blond’s cheek again. “Good boy. If you need anything darling let us know or ask Sherly and he can tell us. Am I right Sherly?” 

“Go away mummy.” Sherlock responded. 

“Oh, Sherlock. Always so poetic.” Mrs Holmes went to hug Greg and squealed excitedly when she saw Greg’s parents arriving. 

Mr Holmes appeared in front of John. “John Watson.” 

The blond shook the man’s hand. “Mr Holmes.” 

“John, wonder if I might have a word?” 

“Yeah, sure.” 

Mr Holmes gave Sherlock a pointed look, asking him to remain seated and not deduce the conversation he would have with his best friend. The older man pulled John away from the table, going far away as possible. 

Sherlock was itching to know what his father would say to John but he was interrupted by his mother kissing him. 

“Looking forward to a new term?” Mr Holmes asked the blond. 

“Yeah. It should be great.” 

Mr Holmes took John towards a pillar. “John, some within the Ministry would strongly discourage me from divulging what I’m about to reveal to you. But I think that you need to know the facts. You are in danger. Grave danger.” The older man saw a few people passing by him and urged John to move to the second pillar ahead. 

Sherlock finally managed to escape his mother’s hands when he heard his father saying the word danger. His eyes were pinned on his father and John but dammit, his father’s back was towards him, so Sherlock could not decipher the conversation taking place. 

The blond took in the man’s words and noticed a HAVE YOU SEEN THIS WIZARD sign taped on the pillar next to him. “Has this anything to do with Sirius Black, sir?” 

Mr Holmes turned around and faced his son, rolling his eyes as he gave Sherlock his back again. “What do you know about Sirius Black, John?” 

“Only that he’s escaped from Azkaban.” 

“Do you know why?” 

John shook his head, he had no clue. 

Mr Holmes began to explain. “Thirteen years ago, when you stopped…” 

“Voldemort.” The blond finished for him. 

“Don’t say his name.” 

“Sorry.” 

Mr Holmes resumed to his explanation. “When you stopped you know who…Black lost everything.” He pushed John towards the next pillar. “But to this day, he still remains a faithful servant. And in his mind, you are the only thing that stands in the way of you know who returning to power.” Mr Holmes urged John to go to the next pillar. “And that is why he has escaped from Azkaban. To find you.” 

The blond licked his lips. “And kill me.” 

“John, swear to me that whatever you might hear, you won’t go looking for Black.” 

John was lost. “Mr Holmes, why would I go looking for someone who wants to kill me?” 

  
  
*-* 

  
  
After the enlightening conversation with Mr Holmes, everyone went to get their things and headed towards the Hogwarts train. 

Mrs Lestrade was running on the platform screaming Greg’s name while holding onto Scabbers. “Greg! Greg!” She managed to reach the window where Greg was extending his arms, trying to reach for Scabbers. “Oh, for goodness sake!” She handed Greg his rat. “Don’t lose him!” 

On the train, John, Sherlock, Greg, and Molly were together looking for an empty compartment while the blond told his friends about blowing up his aunt. “I didn’t mean to blow her up. I just lost control.” 

“Fascinating. Imagine the commencement of her body bloating up and then being drained to normal size again. I would’ve like to have seen that.” Sherlock commented. 

“Of course, only you would care about that. I think that’s fucking brilliant and hilarious.” Greg responded. 

Molly slapped Greg’s arm. “Its not funny Greg. John was lucky enough not to be expelled. Which I’m pretty sure it would break a few hearts around here.” She looked at Lestrade and they both looked at Sherlock. 

Sherlock eyed them both and didn’t understand why they were staring at him. 

John snorted. “Whose heart would break if I left? Anyways, I think I was lucky enough not to get arrested.” 

“Still brilliant.” Greg chipped in. 

Molly stopped the boys. “Come on. Everywhere else is full.” She entered a compartment which contained a man sleeping, with his coat covering his face. 

Greg, John, and Sherlock followed Molly inside. John sat on one bench with Molly while Sherlock sat across from him with Greg next to him. 

“Who do you think that is?” Greg questioned. 

“Professor R.J. Lupin, you idiot.” Sherlock answered. 

Lestrade faced Sherlock with a confused look. “How the hell do you know everything? You couldn’t have deduced his name just by looking at him.” 

Sherlock rolled his eyes and pointed at the suitcase on top. “It’s on his suitcase you idiot.” 

Molly giggled as John looked at the man next to him. “Do you think he’s really asleep?” 

Sherlock eyed the man. “Slow breathing. Lack of movements when the train halts a bit. Not responding to our loud voices. I think it’s safe to say that he’s really asleep. Why? You’re going to tell us something.” 

John chuckled. “Of course, you read me so throughly.” The blond closed the door to the compartment and began to explain to his friends about the unfriendly situation involving Sirius Black. 

Outside, the rain was pouring and dark clouds were rolling in, preventing the students from seeing the scenery that is provided to them. While the sky rumbled with loud thundering sounds. 

“Let me get this straight. Sirius Black has escaped from Azkaban to come after you?” Greg clarified. 

Sherlock scoffed at Greg’s lack of understanding vital information. “That is what he just told us. Were you not paying attention, Lestrade?” 

“Shut up, Sherlock.” 

“That’s awful.” Molly placed her hand on John’s arm. “But they’ll catch Black, won’t they? I mean everyone’s looking for him.” 

“Of course, Molly, every single person is looking for Black. Even more with the knowledge that no one has ever broken out of Azkaban before which increases the worry in the Ministry. Not only is Black a murderer but he’s a raving lunatic who at some point will make a mistake but not before he catches you John.” Sherlock smiled. 

The blond lifted his eyebrow. “Thank you, Sherlock. You make me feel safe.” 

“Actually, you shouldn’t feel safe. He can murder you at any time.” Sherlock offered. 

John squeezed the bridge of his nose. “I was being sarcastic, Sherlock.” 

Sherlock smirked when the train suddenly halted, screeching against the tracks. 

“Why are we stopping? We’re not even close to Hogwarts and there’s no notification of the train stopping at any given moment.” Sherlock deduced. 

John got up from his seat and opened the door, along with other students who poked their heads out of their compartments. Then the train began to shake from side to side, causing John to fall back into his seat. 

“What’s going on?” Greg asked. 

“I don’t know. Maybe we’ve broken down.” John offered. 

“Honestly John, nothing is wrong with this train. Everything works perfectly fine.” Sherlock looked out the window. “This is very strange.” 

The lights on the train went black, leaving the entire train dark and cold. 

Molly faced the window. “There’s something moving out there. I think someone’s coming abroad.” 

Sherlock took in all the signs and concluded that yes, something was on broad but it was a ridiculous conclusion. “I think I know what it is but it seems very unlikely.” 

The train shook again, the windows were slowly becoming frozen, the temperature dropped and everyone was shivering. 

The train shook again, scaring the shit out of Greg. “Bloody hell! What’s happening?” 

Sherlock looked at John and the effects of everything becoming frozen was proving his hypothesis correct. “John.” 

The blond was about to answer Sherlock when a hooded figure dressed in a floating cloak decorated with holes scattered everywhere appeared outside their door. It stretched its hand out and opened the door to their compartment. Its creepy black boned fingers held onto the door as it pushed itself to face all the five people in the compartment. 

Everyone eyed the terrifying hooded figure floating, there were no eyes on it, just a round opening that was considered its mouth. It began to make rumbling sounds, searching for something that would capture its attention. Then it faced John and it began to consume the boy’s happiness and feeding off the dark memories that John possessed. 

John felt himself drawn to the suction created by the hooded figure and he couldn’t look away. Then the creature realized that this person was perfect for its consummation, it continued to drain away John’s happiness and increasing the bad memories of John’s past. 

Then the man who was asleep throughout the entire train ride, opened his eyes and took out his wand, performing a spell that consisted of a bright white light that pushed the creature away. 

When the connection with John was broken, the blond heard a high-pitched scream that seemed to be screaming his name, then the world went black and he fell unconscious.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a friendly reminder, this is my fic and if you do not like the way I portray the characters, then please don’t waste your time reading and then leaving a mean comment. If what I write is not to your liking, please find another author that will satisfy your cravings. Toodles!


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